by Debby Mayne
Molly waved a photo in front of his face. “Look.”
Taken from the top of the lighthouse, she’d captured the profile of a man below. He appeared to be staring up at them; half his face covered by shadow.
“I’m thinking if we blew that up,” a smile spread across her face. “We’d see the same profile as in the warehouse picture.”
7
I t might be a long shot, but Molly felt sure the man in the photo was the same as the person in the photo from the previous day. She swung her legs over the side of the chair. “Let’s take it to the lab.”
Lance’s hand shot out. “Slow down. You’re supposed to be taking it easy.”
“I took a nap. How much easier can I take it?”
“Fifteen minutes does not constitute a nap.”
“For you maybe.” She stood. Her head swam, and she gripped the back of the chaise to hide her discomfort. No way would he let her go if he knew she still got dizzy. Lifting her chin, she stared him down. “Are you coming or am I going alone?” She knew that would get him. If nothing else, Lance Spencer took his job seriously. Whether it was a volunteer one or not.
His brows drew together. “Woman, you’re going to be the death of me.”
She refused to be intimidated and met his glare, dead on, almost sinking into the dark warmth of his eyes. A lump rose in her throat. Swallowing, she forced it away. “That’s very possible.” The thought sent a chill down her spine. The knowledge that assuming the role of her bodyguard might cause danger to Lance did not sit well with her. He already occupied entirely too much of her thoughts. Besides, she couldn’t have feelings for someone after two days. Right?
He towered over her. “Don’t think scowling at me will convince me your head isn’t hurting.”
In order to prevent jarring her pounding head, Molly took measured steps as she led the way back to the lab. The lab stood empty. Daniella was obviously out taking photos. Maybe Mahamud, the other tech, was on break. The crew had little time to themselves while at sea. They took the time when they could get it. Molly sighed. Here she was, on medical leave, her second day on the job. Her absence forced the others to take up the slack. If her recuperation time took too long, they might put her on the first flight home.
When Lance joined her, he closed the door behind them. “Can you blow it up?”
Pulled away from her pity party, she nodded. “Yes. The photographers, as well as the lab techs, are trained on the equipment.”
Lance leaned close while she worked. His cologne masked the astringent odor emanating from the developing machine. His breath stirred the hairs on the back of her neck, making her skin tingle. Her heart thumped with the rhythm of the machine. Goodness, the man oozed masculinity.
Despite the distraction of Lance, within ten minutes they stared at an enlarged, fuzzy image of a man’s profile. Lance bent over the photo. “That could be Robert Morrison.”
“He’s our man.” Molly wanted to laugh. It’d been so easy.
“Not necessarily. We don’t have proof he killed anybody.” He pulled the first photo out of his pocket and compared the two. “I repeat, it could be. The first picture is too dark to make an accurate statement. And we’ve lost a lot of clarity by blowing this one up.”
Undeterred, Molly yanked the glossy paper away from him. “Then we’ll have to watch him. Draw him out.”
“You mean spy.”
She shrugged. “Whatever it takes. Are you going to give this to security?”
“Yes. And have a copy sent to the Honolulu PD. They can run a background check on the guy.”
“What do we do in the meantime?”
“Dinner, maybe?”
Her stomach growled. Her face heated as Lance chuckled. “Sounds good. I’m not sure I’ll be able to resort to being a passenger. My fingers are already itching to take more photos. Maybe we could eat in the crew mess? Something light?”
He placed a hand on her lower back and guided her from the room. “Tomorrow. Today, you rest. Doctor’s orders. And I don’t think the crew would appreciate me intruding on their space.”
Rest. She’d never done ‘nothing’ in her entire life. “Fine. But I want to sit at Morrison’s table.”
“Keep your mouth shut if we do.”
“We’ll see.” Her skin rippled where his hand lay. What would it be like to be held by him? Not the ‘I’m carrying you to safety’ thing, although that had been nice, but a romantic embrace. Heavenly, she’d guess. But he’d have to lose the heavy-handed attitude. His good looks wouldn’t persuade her to be bossed around for long.
When they reached the dining room, Lance settled her into a chair and chose the seat next to her. “We probably should have had your dinner taken to your room. How bad does your head hurt?”
“A little. I’ll go after I eat.” She glanced around for Morrison. There was no sign of his salt-and-pepper hair and boxy frame. What if he didn’t get back on board? Docking would’ve given him the perfect opportunity to make a run for it. It would have also cast more suspicion. The clock on the wall, and the subtle movement of the ship, told her they’d set sail. Her shoulders slumped. “Maybe you’re right. I’ll take something in my room.”
Lance rose. “Let me get you settled, then I’ll fill you a plate from the buffet.”
“I’m really sorry to be such a bother.”
Morrison entered the dining room and made straight for the buffet line.
“Oh, there he is!” she whispered. “I’ll stay now.”
“Absolutely not. I’ll go to the captain if I have to.” Lance’s stern look convinced her he wouldn’t be coerced. “And tell the chief purser.”
“Okay. But you need to keep an eye on him.”
“I promise.”
*
She was the most exasperating woman he’d ever met. By the time he’d gotten past her bulldog of a roommate who stated, “Crew members are not permitted to fraternize with the passengers”, flashed his badge, and had Molly safely ensconced in her room, fed, and promising to stay put, Lance felt as if he’d run a mile. He understood her enthusiasm in helping solve the crime, but there was a proper way to do it, and then there was the wrong way. Jumping in headfirst would only get her killed. He refused to live with the guilt of losing two women on his watch.
By the time he returned to the dining room, Morrison had left. Lance headed to the deck. A half-hour later, he spotted the man leaning over the rail. Morrison seemed to stare intently at the passing water.
Lance approached cautiously. “Evening.”
Rigid lines appeared along Morrison’s jaw and hand, but he didn’t look up. “Good evening.”
“Not thinking about jumping are you? Because that’s a long way down.” Lance turned with his back to the rail and crossed his arms. “Pardon me for saying so, but you don’t look like you’re enjoying the cruise. Is there anything I can do to help?”
“I’m here for my health. Not a good time. What are you, the cruise director?” The man turned dark eyes on him. “Not everyone hooks up with a pretty young woman. I’ve seen the way you watch her at mealtimes.” He shrugged. “None of my business.”
He was right. It wasn’t any of his business. Lance waited for a disparaging remark and shoved his hands in his pockets to hide the clenched fists. He forced a smile to his face. “You’re right. Molly is something else. Nothing like a shipboard romance, is there? Love ’em and leave ’em. No strings attached. Yep, that’s the way I like it.” God forgive him. He’d left the party days behind a long time ago and the words now left a sour taste in his mouth.
“So, you’re just having a fling?”
“More or less.” Would the guy buy his story? Lance hoped his game of toying with her affections would throw the man off the scent of them watching him. “So, why’d you come?”
“Just leaving behind some bad stuff.”
“Clean ocean air is good for that.”
Morrison pulled a cigarette from inside his jacket. His hand tr
embled as he lit it. “That’s what I’ve heard.”
Had they found any butts near the body in the warehouse? He’d have to make a call. Morrison smoked Marlboro Reds. He turned his attention to the horizon.
Streaks of magenta, lilac, and ginger, painted the sky. The sun’s crimson sphere slowly began its descent beneath the waves. While Lance watched, the moon took the sun’s place and instead of vibrant colors, the night was colored with shades of black and silver.
“Did you hear there’s been a death on board? One of the crew members.” He cut his gaze to Morrison. “Security suspects a murder.”
Morrison’s cigarette fell from his hands to the water below. “No, I hadn’t heard. I guess with you seeing one of the crew members, you get the inside scoop.” Perspiration glistened on the man’s upper lip. “I thought crew and passengers weren’t supposed to mix?”
“We were keeping things low key until she went on medical leave. We’ll have to be more discreet when she resumes work.” Lance pasted a goofy grin on his face.
Morrison turned to search his face. “You, sir, are not being truthful.” He spun and marched down the deck until he disappeared around the bow.
The man had definitely been thrown. If he was an innocent bystander, Lance would eat his shoe. He smiled and strolled in the direction the man had taken. He’d keep his eyes open, ferret out some clues, then he’d send in the authorities.
He headed to his cabin for a time of rest and reflection. It’d been too long since he’d read his Bible, and he definitely needed some guidance. Not only in finding Antonio’s killer, but in his relationship with Molly. Or lack thereof. What made him think he could love a woman who’d be at sea most of the year?
8
H eavy pounding on the cabin door jarred Molly from her troubled sleep. She bolted upright, the thin sheet clutched to her chest. Her rapid breathing bounced off the walls, and her head spun from the sudden movement. Hilga cursed and rolled over, wrapping her pillow over her ears.
Outside the window, dawn broke. A thin beam of light lanced through the port and illuminated the room. Molly blinked and dragged her gaze back to the door. Whoever stood on the other side ceased the knocking. A faint scratching on the underside made Molly seize in panic. Suddenly, a white envelope slid through the quarter-inch space and skid to a halt. Like a snowy blot it stood out against the navy multi-purpose carpet.
Molly vacated the bed, wrapped the sheet around her, and shuffled toward the ominous rectangle. With shaking fingers, she lifted it from the floor, then opened the unaddressed message. Half a sheet of paper lay inside. Bold typed words screamed back at her.
Careful. You don’t know what you’re getting into.
Her blood chilled. No, she didn’t. But through no fault of her own, she’d been drawn into one, possibly two murders. She wouldn’t sit aside like a lamb led to slaughter and allow herself to become number three.
She scrambled into her red, white, and blue uniform, then dashed from the room, straight to the Plaza Deck and cabin 3106. A sleepy-eyed Lance answered her frantic knock.
“Molly? What is it?”
“I didn’t know where else to go.” She took a step back at the sight of him in only pajama bottoms. Her face heated, and she averted her gaze. “I’ll wait here while you get dressed.”
“I’ll leave the door open.” Lance grabbed a tee shirt and disappeared into the bathroom. Within seconds, he dragged Molly into his room.
A place filled with the fragrance of his aftershave. Her stomach flipped.
“This was shoved under my door.” She handed him the warning.
A muscle in his jaw ticked as he read. His lips thinned. “This clarifies someone on this ship is a threat to you.”
Molly’s legs buckled. She swayed, and Lance lowered her onto a chair. “What do I do?”
He knelt in front of her. “Your job. Let me and the police do the rest. I’ll keep you safe and they’ll find out who is behind this.”
She bent at the waist and let her hands dangle between her legs. “Lance, do you believe in God?”
“Yes.” He tilted her chin until she looked at him. “Don’t you?”
“I do, but…” Pulling away, Molly blinked against the tears welling in her eyes. “After my painful breakup, I prayed for a job that would take me away for a while. Photographer on a cruise ship seemed perfect. A direct answer from God. If I read him right. Why is this happening to me?”
Lance cupped her face and placed his lips against her forehead. The warm kiss and his tender touch broke the dam of tears she’d held at bay. He wiped them away with his thumbs. Molly’s insides melted. That a man of Lance’s size could be so tender, shocked her to her core. Her ex had been a smaller man with a mean streak the size of Texas. A spark of hope flickered in her heart.
“I don’t know. Maybe you need strengthening. I’m new at this faith thing, Molly. I don’t have all the answers. Why did I survive a shootout and my partner didn’t? Out of all the cruises I could’ve taken, why am I on this one?” He straightened and shrugged. “Sometimes we don’t get all the answers. We have to trust God to know what’s best.”
She glanced toward the open cabin door. Passengers strolled by in a steady, joyful stream. And here she sat, scared and broken, relishing a stranger’s tender touch. Except Lance didn’t feel like a stranger. She was more comfortable around him than she’d ever felt around Vince. “I need to get to work.”
“The doctor excused you for a couple of days.”
“It’ll take my mind off things.” She rose, laid a hand on his shoulder, and then moved to the door. Pausing, she glanced over her shoulder. “Thank you. I’ll be at breakfast.”
Lance frowned. “No, wait for me.”
She nodded and stepped into the hall. Passengers glanced her way, and she forced a smile on her face. If Molly couldn’t enjoy her cruise in paradise, she’d do her best to make sure others did.
Her faith was new too. Maybe she’d misunderstood God’s direction. She hadn’t turned to him until after the brutal beating Vince had given her for breaking up with him. While she lay in a hospital bed, broken in more ways than one, a kindly nurse spoke the words that took root in her heart and sprouted into her soul. A life line. She grabbed hold, and hadn’t let go of three words that held immense power. God loves you.
Now, her life was at risk again and she couldn’t keep her mind off of a handsome police officer. She wasn’t ready for romance. She merged with the passengers and allowed herself to be swept along.
Molly sniffed and composed herself before stepping into the clatter of breakfast aboard ship. Salt-cured bacon and the floury sweet smell of pancakes greeted her. The clatter of dishes and silverware serenaded those waiting in the buffet line. Hilga waved from her station, and the other photographer, Daniella, raised an eyebrow in question. Flashing them both a smile, Molly shrugged, then slid directly into her role as a happy picture taker. She’d rest later. Other than a raw spot on her neck and a slight headache, she suffered no other effects from yesterday. This morning’s emotional wave ride was a towering tsunami threatening to crush her beneath its weight.
*
Lance entered the full dining room and inhaled deeply. Breakfast was his favorite meal of the day. Omelets, bacon, biscuits, and pancakes full of butter and maple syrup. He searched for Molly, spotted her snapping photos as she milled around the room, then he sauntered to the end of the buffet line. Grabbing a warm plate, he filled it with his favorite foods and moved to the nearest empty chair.
The ship would dock in Hilo by ten a.m. Before disembarking, he’d drop the note off with security then spend the day with a beautiful woman. And, he’d carry the camera this time. He wasn’t about to take any more chances of someone knocking her down to steal it.
All his years on the force hadn’t prepared him for a cruise ship murder. There weren’t definite lines drawn of who headed up the investigation. Sure, security should have the responsibility, but somehow he lacked confidence in
Jack Morley. The man didn’t seem to be taking things as seriously as Lance thought he should.
He greeted his tablemates with a nod, then forked a healthy portion of pancake into his mouth. Maybe Morley was doing his best. After all, security people weren’t trained to the same degree as detectives. He’d check with him after breakfast. See if he’d contacted the FBI.
Before sleeping last night, Lance had taken advantage of the free internet service and did some research. A lot of crimes at sea went unsolved. Mostly disappearances with the occasional death sprinkled in for variety. Often ruled a suicide. He vowed not to let it happen this time.
After eating his fill, he motioned for Molly to join him, and then headed down to the security office. She kept glancing over her shoulder.
“What are you looking for?”
“Morrison. I’m going to take as many pictures of him as possible. One of them has to match up to one of the profile photos.”
Lance gripped her elbow. “Just don’t make a nuisance of yourself. If he is our guy, you don’t want to scare him off or anger him. You ought to leave it to security, or me. We’re trained for this.”
“He’s hard to get a picture of. I tried the first day, and he covered his face.” She stared up at him. “Doesn’t that sound suspicious?”
He laughed. “A lot of people are camera shy.”
“Just not you.”
“Nope. I take good pictures. Bet you wouldn’t guess I paid my way through college by doing some modeling.” He clamped his mouth shut. Where did that come from? Did he just let that secret out of the bag?
She giggled. “That doesn’t surprise me in the slightest. You have a very pretty face.”
“Pretty?” Ouch! Women were pretty. Molly was pretty. Men, however, including himself, were not pretty.
The ship’s security room door loomed before them. Lance knocked, waited for the call to enter, and ushered Molly in ahead of him.
Jack Morley looked up from a desk crammed into a corner of the small room. Two other desks lined the walls with bored men slumped in chairs behind them. Empty chairs, to seat visitors most likely, were stacked in a corner.
